


Cumbria to London

by livvy_luu



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, Love, M/M, Pining, Post Case, Post series 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 10:37:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3974968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livvy_luu/pseuds/livvy_luu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John have a stupid argument which leads to their final barriers collapsing</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cumbria to London

**Author's Note:**

> a Head canon, I often think of Sherlock and John on train's around England and well late nights always lead to honest conversations

John and Sherlock were on their last train back to London. The had been in Cumbria in the small village of Crooklands. A mother had travelled to Baker street to beg for Sherlock’s help with finding her daughter as the police force had shut the case, however she wasn't satisfied. It turned out to be corruption and racism were very large factors in this case and it resulted in the kidnapping of a young girl. The case itself was not particularly complex, however it struck a nerve with the consulting detective and Blogger. It did however take its toll on the two men. Their train from Carlisle ad been delayed a further two hours. The rain poured down on the two men as they waited in silence, neither had spoken to one another since the end of the case. 

The train arrived at the platform at around 2am, and Sherlock couldn't help but let out s deep sigh. The train was warm and empty just perfect. Sherlock silently took his and John’s suitcase and placed them on the overhead carrier and began to remove his coat, and jacket which were both sodden. John did the same stripping his jumper off too, he took Sherlock’s wet garments from his hands and placed them on the seats opposite. With one final groan the two men sat down, and allowed their heads to fall back. The last leg of the Journey would take about three and a half hours Luckily Baker street is a 5 minute walk from Euston Station.  
Sherlock is exhausted, in the last week he has had about 4 hours sleep and very little food. For the first time in a long while the idea of going to bead sounds like heaven to the detective’s ears. John Watson is also on the brink of exhaustion and Sherlock feels a pang of guilt, he can barely look at his friend. The two boys had fought within the confines of the bed and breakfast as they were packing. It wasn't even due to a serious fight. Both men were at their wits end by then, it seemed everyone in the village were against them. It started with the rumble of Sherlock’s stomach as he was folding his clothing. 

“We will get some breakfast before we head off.” That was all that was said, but for whatever reason Sherlock’s mind had taken it as an insult and he snapped. He threw his final shirt in a crumpled state into his suitcase before turning to his only friend. “Will you stop ordering me to do things!” it was silent within the bedroom, John’s face showed nothing but shock and Sherlock had to look away immediately he knew he knew he had over reacted.  
“Excuse me?” John asked finally.

The consulting detective can’t help the frustrated groan fall from his mouth and the heavy roll of his eyes. His body seems to be working on auto piolet. His mind is begging for him to shut up but it is also pushing him to be so cruel. “I will not repeat myself you know what I said.” He spat.  
“oh my god Sherlock, calm the fuck down.”

“I am fucking calm! I just don’t want someone like you spouting me orders.” Sherlock rarely swears but it seems at this very moment his emotions are running high and he can no longer contain them. His breathing has quickened and he can feel the anger raise through his body, it is clear this argument is more than about food and Sherlock is not ready to pursue more emotions but it seems his mind is at breaking point.

“Someone like me? What’s that supposed to mean?” John is glaring at him now, with hands on hips and as e rakes his eyes all over Sherlock’s body he licks his lips subconsciously and Sherlock cannot help but follow his tongue, even in the heat of anger his mind still has room to peak his arousal. The light mist of attraction is bitten down. Sherlock cannot feel like this it’s pathetic, it’s a weakness, it will destroy him. “someone who is so stupid! Why should I listen to an invalid soldier!?” Shit. Where did that come from. Sherlock opens eyes (when did he close them?) to face what is in front of him. Captain John Watson has emerged, his body has moved effortlessly into the parade at ease, Sherlock has only just become aware that John is wearing only his undervest on his top, his muscles are perfectly toned, his stance has made John talker and wider and for the first time Sherlock must admit that he is a little terrified. John’s face is cold and steeled over the warm ocean of his eyes has turned to a great storm. With a curt nod of John’s head he about turn’s “right. Ok.” With that he is gone, suitcase and all. Sherlock does not see his friend until the train platform at Braystone, the only contact Sherlock got was a blunt text saying he was getting the bus to Braystone not a taxi.

John hasn't looked at him for the last 3 hours, and it has never been so painful. John is looking out the window on the other side of the train. “John?” no answer. “Look, John I regret what I had said. I know I was out of order.” John lets out a cold and humourless laugh. “Please-“  
“Oh, manners now, how kind of you.” John still does not turn to Sherlock. 

It may be due to exhaustion, or the early hours of a new day or maybe he finally doesn’t care anymore, he can feel his eyes begin to well up, he lets out a deep sniff. “John listen, I am sorry for everything. I must confess that even after all the years we have known one another I still doubt that you willing wish to stay with me. I am still not used to the kindness you present me. Often when you ask to get a meal I often remember my school days where I would be asked a similar question to only be beaten up if I go or beaten up if I did not.” Sherlock is looking at his hands as if they were the most fascinating thing he has ever seen, if he is to look up now he know he will weep. There is silence between the two men, all that can be heard is the rain and roar of the AC. “I often forget that I do not need to defend myself against you, I trust you whole heartedly, however through my exhaustion I reverted back to my natural defences, and it was you who got the onslaught.”

John has finally turned towards Sherlock, in all the years he has known him and everything they have been through, from Moriarty to Mary Sherlock has never confessed something to honest and raw. John can hardly believe it. John can see that Sherlock is no longer wearing his mask, his features are completely vulnerable, all John’s anger has gone and so has his voice. He’s not good with talking about his feelings. So John takes the final risk he can he slowly moves his hand to Sherlock’s on his thigh and entwines their fingers. Sherlock immediately looks to John, and all his offers is a small smile. A smile that says everything, his eyes are warm once again and he light squeezes the detective’s hand as reassurance before turning away, hands still together. 

The journey back to London is another two hours, the two men are found by the ticket conductor leaning on one another hands still together and conductor is almost guilty to wake the two up. As they walked back to Baker street Sherlock cautiously takes John’s hand once again which is meant with a delicate caress. Just outside speedy’s John pulls Sherlock to a halt and faces him, before a small smile forms on his lips he drops his bag onto the ground and places one hand in the detective’s hair he removes his hand from Sherlock’s to gently stroke his jawline Sherlock moves into the touch and slowly closes his eyes it’s overwhelming. The caressing stops for a moment and Sherlock is almost worried he hallucinated it. Until he feels the soft lips of the man he has loved like no other. The kiss is light but filled with promise, and Sherlock returns the silent agreement by abandoning his bag and placing both hands on his bloggers face pulling him closer. The finally separate after what feels like a mere moment, a moment neither wished would end. “it’s always been you Sherlock Holmes.” John and Sherlock both Share an intimate smile before John moves to pick up both their backs. Sherlock unlocks the door, unable to supress his happiness. 

I will wait for you even if the world falls around us.


End file.
